


The Crush

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-20
Updated: 2005-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-30 10:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10161083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Harry is enamored with a certain dark-haired professor. JKR owns all things Harry Potter. I just fiddle about in the world that she made.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

The group of students waited in the darkened classroom for their professor, one more anxiously than the others. His friend giving him a quizzical look for fidgeting, Harry Potter tried not to look so expectant.

The door opened suddenly and loudly, clattering against the wall. Enter the potions master in a flurry of black robes, striding through briskly, closing the windows as he went with a wave of his wand. Harry watched the dark clothing billow behind the tall figure, gazing as the current of air caused the robes to cling here and there to his teacher's body. Oh, to be those robes!

Snape didn't greet them. He never did, writing on the board then turning suddenly, which tossed hair and clothing similarly. The professor turned a stern face toward the class, a deep, velvety voice escaping thin lips. That voice held the force of command. So distracted by the tone, Harry didn't focus on the instructions that were given. Lucky for him, the professor had written the page numbers on the blackboard. 

The teen tried his best to concentrate on class. Snape was known for embarrassing those daring enough not to give him their full attention. Harry found himself distracted by how Snape held his wand in one hand, absently stroking it with the other as he spoke, long fingers sliding along the shaft of it. The teen's pants were growing much too tight at the thought of what other things Snape could stroke as deftly. His eyelids fluttered shut at the thought of those fingers unfastening his uniform pants, sliding inside to claim their prize. That deep silken voice murmuring into one ear as the man leaned closer to capture the lobe, nibbling on it with blunt teeth. Harry found himself worrying his lower lip with his own teeth as he shifted in his chair, his trapped erection straining against his clothing.

The unexpected slap of hands onto his desk startled Harry into opening his eyes. He blushed deeply as he looked into the obsidian eyes of the subject of his reverie. The professor glared at him, a mix of disappointment and annoyance, those thin lips pressd together in an angry line. If it wouldn't have gotten him permanent detention, Harry would have kissed them.

"So, Mr. Potter," the potions master drawled in a way that only he was capable of, "You seem to have chosen my class to daydream in."

Harry worked his mouth wordlessly, trying to make some form of speech come forth. But his mind had not yet caught up, distracted by the proximity of the irate teacher. Fear and desire seemed to be present in equal amounts, one feeding on the other. What form of wizardry did the potions master possess to cause this reaction within him?

A regal eyebrow arched. "Have you nothing to say?"

"S-Sorry Professor," the teen managed, his mouth suddenly dry. "It won't happen again."

The man glared at him a moment longer, leaning closer supported on the balls of his fingers until he was no more than a few inches from Harry's face. The teen fancied that he could almost feel the heat radiating from his professor's skin.

Those dark eyes narrowed. "Be sure that you don't. Or you'll find yourself spending your evenings in detention with me until your time here at Hogwarts is ended."

Would that be so bad?

The potions master rose abruptly, turning on his heel and striding back toward the front of the class, robes trailing in his wake. Snape continued the lecture, making sure to turn an eye onto the wayward student now and again to catch any further daydreaming. Those stern glances seemed to burn Harry, who was certain that the man must suspect something. Harry tried to control his breathing and his racing heartbeat to no avail. Ron cut him a look, mouthing the words "are you okay" at him, to which he gave a short nod.

The class now over, the students gathered their belongings. As Harry turned to follow his friends, he heard his name called from the front of the room. He turned, watching as Snape beckoned to him crisply with one long finger.

The teen approached, hoping that he was holding his books low enough to hide a tell-tale erection. Snape was leaning with one hand on the desk, the other on his hip which was canted just so. 

"Mr. Potter," Snape began, "You need to start taking my lessons more seriously. Any wizard worth his salt has to have a mastery of the art of potion making. Raw talent can only take one so far."

The professor moved from his position by the desk to close the distance between them. Soon he was looking down into wide green eyes. "I expect better behavior from you, Potter."

Harry was always taken aback at how Snape could enunciate his name just so, making it seem erotic.

"If you don't change that attitude of yours," the potions master continued, "I will have to dole out a fitting punishment."

Harry swallowed, his mind rapidly filling with images that were anything but vanilla.

"And believe me, child, I can be very creative in that regard."

The professor's words and tone of voice did nothing to quell his now very painful erection. The teen hastily apologized once more, and as soon as he was dismissed by the tall wizard, Harry headed swiftly to the boy's bathroom. He had just enough time to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, before Defense Against Dark Arts class.

TBC.


End file.
